This is a show about a 900-year-old alien with a time-and-space traveling blue box who steals random young women from London and takes them on adventures. It's a family show, a scifi show, a ridiculous show about a man who can change his face. It's also quite nearly the best show ever to exist ever. There are lots of reasons to love it. I will try to explain.
The Doctor knows things. He's been around, and he can tell you anything about any race anywhere at any time. He was probably there when they built their civilization, and probably will be there when it ends.
It's like when you're a kid. The first time they tell you that the world's turning and you just can't quite believe it 'cause everything looks like it's standin' still. I can feel it. The turn of the Earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinnin' at 1,000 miles an hour and the entire planet is hurtling around the sun at 67,000 miles an hour, and I can feel it. We're fallin' through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world, and if we let go... That's who I am.
He's like an ancient grandpa, and like a frothing child.
He may have seen it all, but he wants to keep seeing it again and again and he wants to show it all to everyone else.
(The show is the pro-gayest thing ever to pro-gay.)
There is no one unimportant.
There is no one he won't try to help.
“You know what they call me in the ancient legends of the Dalek homeworld? The Oncoming Storm. You might have removed all your emotions, but I reckon right down deep in your DNA there’s one little spark left. And that’s fear. Doesn’t it just burn when you face me?”
And he'll listen to children who worry about the things grown-ups pretend don't exist.
He's the kind of person you want to believe is out there.
“He’s like fire and ice and rage. He’s like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun. He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And… he’s wonderful.”
Because everyone wants to run away, just a little.
So you buy a pair of red chucks and keep them by your bed, just in case. As if he could really land on some windy summer night. The kind of night where it's so quiet, so still that you can almost hear the waves lapping against the shore on some far distant beach. Maybe the sky would be dark and full of stars, and the air would be warm. Maybe there would be rings around the moon and dew on the grass.
The kind of night where maybe, back when you were a kid and dragging along behind your mom on a reluctant moonlight walk, you could have imagined the road under your feet leading to another world where it disappeared into the darkness - like stepping through a veil to find castles on the horizon and serpent-headed boats docked at the foggy shore, dragons shaking the earth as they roared into the sky. Back when you hadn't quite grown up, not yet, not really - hadn't seen how complicated the world was, how sad it could be or how glorious - but all you know is that there's so much out there, so much mystery to find and history to explore and future to create, and you just want to get on your feet and go, go, go. Because you want to see alien stars and distant mountains and different cultures, and you don't know much but you know it'd be - -
And then.... And then it's just running out the front door barefoot, pajamas baggy and ugly, hair messy and unbrushed, not a cent in my pocket or a person who knows where I've gone - only you, the Doctor, and the TARDIS, next stop: Anywhere.
Also, there's always this.